French Toast and Family Dinners
by Sk8er Chica
Summary: Can Gemma's cooking soothe two savage beasts? Well, she thinks it's worth a try.
1. Chapter 1: French Toast

**DISCLAIMER:** I own nothing.

* * *

Jax sat in the darkened bar, waiting for the clubhouse's latest arrival. Kozik had called a few hours ago from the state line. Fortunately for everyone involved, Tig had spent the better part of the night with a bottle of Jack Daniels and was passed out in his room at the very back. Jax knew the two of them being under the same roof was a risky proposition, but what else could he do? He'd decided it had been better not to even ask Tara if Kozik could crash on their couch.

As president, Clay should be the one sitting here, but he'd played the old man card. He was sound asleep at home, his stepson wishing he was at his little house with Tara's soft, warm body next to him. Jax was starting to doze off sitting up when he heard the characteristic purr of a Harley-Davidson. He opened the door and gave his brother a handshake hug.

Up close, Kozik looked strung out; his eyes were slightly sunken with dark rings beneath them. He was pale. Edgy, too. When Jax let go, Kozik kept shifting his weight from one leg to the other, drumming his fingers against the strap of a worn backpack. He'd probably had it since Desert Storm. Jax hoped Kozik's behavior was just a side effect of the long trip from Tacoma. As far as he knew, the dragon had been off his friend's back for a few years. Jax led Kozik down the hall, nudging open the first door on the left. Kozik dropped his saddlebags and backpack next to the bed.

Jax took out his phone and started dialing. "I better let my mom know you're here and not dead in a ditch."

"You don't hafta call her now, dude. It's not even light out yet," said Kozik, holding back a yawn.

"You must not remember Gemma very well." She must've answered because the next thing Jax said was, "Hey, it's me. Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to let you know that Koz just got here. You don't have to do that. Okay, sure, fine. See you soon. Bye." Jax hung up and reported, "Gemma's on her way with some breakfast stuff."

"Right now?"

"I guess." Jax shrugged. "Her idea, not mine."

Jax left to start a pot of coffee. There was no point in going home and trying to go back to sleep; he'd just have to wake up for work at Teller-Morrow in a few hours. Kozik sat down hard on the end of the bed. Almost 13 hours of straight riding had taken it out of him, a lot more than it used to. He knew he should really take off his boots before putting his feet up, but he didn't think he even had the energy to shrug out of his kutte. Kozik leaned back until his head hit the pillow. He shut his eyes, feeling like he was sinking deeper and deeper into the old mattress.

When Gemma arrived with the makings of French toast, she smelled coffee perking but didn't see their guest at the bar waiting for a cup.

"Morning, Jax," Gemma greeted her son with a kiss on the cheek. "Where's Koz?"

Jax pointed a thumb over his shoulder. Gemma deposited her groceries in the kitchen and went down the hall, spotting him through the open door. Kozik was lying flat on his back atop the covers, one arm draped over his eyes to block out the rising sun. Gemma thought he must be uncomfortable with his knife handle digging into his ribcage and his holstered gun still on his hip, but stripping weapons off a sleeping Son would be tantamount to suicide. She shut the blinds and took an old blanket off the desk chair. With a mother's practiced ease, she carefully laid it over him. Kozik made a little noise in his throat, but didn't wake up. She left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Back in the kitchen, Gemma put Bobby's favorite frying pan on the stove and dropped a pat of butter into it. No sense in letting the supplies go to waste.

"You find him?" Jax wanted to know. When Gemma nodded, he pointed to the stove. "Want me to wake him up when that's ready?"

"No!" Gemma looked scandalized by the idea. "He's exhausted. Poor baby." Gemma added, now fork-whipping eggs and milk in a bowl.

Those weren't exactly the words most people would use to describe SAMTAC's sergeant at arms, but Gemma was a breed of her own.

"Room service might be better," Jax suggested, hoping his mother got the hint.

"Not a bad idea," Gemma acknowledged with a tilt of her head. "I was thinking, Jackson. You should bring the boys over tonight. Family dinner. Bobby gave me this new recipe I wanna try out."

Jax raised an eyebrow. Was his mom nuts? She knew all about the bad blood between Tig and Kozik. Jax doubted that 8 years had made Tig hate his Tacoma counterpart any less; the man was known for burying his enemies, not grudges. He also knew that his mom would do what she wanted, no matter what he said.

"Just don't use your good plates." Jax cautioned.

Before long, sizzling and the smells of coffee and cinnamon brought the rest of the clubhouse's lodgers out to the bar, except Kozik. Jax noted that Tig looked especially surly this morning, even after two cups of strong coffee. He had no idea his mortal enemy was sound asleep behind a flimsy plywood door just steps away; Jax was further determined to keep him from that knowledge for as long as possible.

When the French toast was ready, Gemma started passing out plates. The members of SAMCRO slid the bottle of Aunt Jemima back and forth across the bar, occasionally singing the praises of Gemma's cooking. Gemma perched on a stool with her own breakfast, telling the boys about Charming's latest gossip between bites. Tig picked at his food, too hungover for anything this rich. One by one, the Sons cleaned their plates, thanked Gemma again, and headed off to work in the garage.

After all the boys were gone, Gemma opened Kozik's door to check on him. He had rolled to his side facing the door. His cheek was pressed against the pillow, a half-smile on the part of his face that she could see. Gemma figured the sweet-butt he was dreaming about must've been pretty damn sexy. Or did he have an old lady now? She added that to the mental list of questions to ask later.

"Koz, honey, it's Gemma," she said quietly. "You wanna come have some breakfast?"

She didn't get any kind of an answer, so she closed the door. She hoped Kozik wasn't laying on his gun; he'd be really sore later. Gemma went back to the kitchen and washed the dishes. While she was there, she cooked another plate of French toast, leaving it on the counter with a note and the bottle of syrup. All her boys were now taken care of, meaning she could start her shift in the TM office. It would be a short one today so she could go home and cook some more.


	2. Chapter 2: Family Dinner

When Kozik finally opened his eyes again, he was slightly disoriented. Sure, there were SoA decorations, Bike Week posters, and centerfolds of hot chicks on the walls, but this didn't look like his place in Tacoma. Who'd put a blanket over him? And holy fuck, why did his side hurt?

 _'Because you slept on your gun, you fucking idiot,_ ' he realized.

Kozik sat up. If the ancient alarm clock on the nightstand could be trusted, it was late afternoon. Kozik was so hungry he could feel the sides of his stomach rubbing together. Standing to his full height made him dizzy and he shook his head to clear out the cobwebs. Kozik sidestepped the blanket, which had fallen onto the floor, and walked toward the bathroom mirror. He took his holster off his belt and laid it on the sink, then lifted up his T-shirt to inspect the damage. An interesting bruise was already forming on his right side. Kozik couldn't stop himself from poking at it, even though it made him hiss in pain. He put his holster at the small of his back so it wouldn't rub the bruise and covered in with his shirt.

Kozik went out into the hallway and found the clubhouse was deserted, meaning the garage must still be open. Kozik could see a couple of guys out front on a smoke break. Tig wasn't among them, so Kozik felt safe enough to join them. He wasn't afraid of Tig, not exactly, cautious was a better word for it. The kind of caution usually reserved for a possibly rabid stray dog on your porch. There was a strong chance SAMCRO's resident psychopath still wanted him dead. Kozik just hoped he wouldn't have to deal with Tig until after he had the chance to get some food in his stomach.

"Well, look what we got here, lads. It's Sleeping Beauty," Chibs joked, pulling Kozik into a handshake hug forcefully enough that the blond felt something in his back pop. "Good to see ya, brother."

Kozik cracked a smile to show he wasn't offended. "Good to be back, Chibs."

Jax sized him up. So far, Kozik was acting like his normal, good-natured self. Sleeping hard in a soft bed had brought his color back a little. Kozik's blue eyes were clearer and, most tellingly, his pupils were round instead of pinpoints. SAMTAC's sergeant at arms was still clean.

Satisfied, Jax ground out his cigarette and said, "I was about to wake you up. Gemma says you're invited to family dinner and we're headed out there pretty soon."

"Sounds great, man," said Kozik, sliding a hand down his chest. "I didn't eat since I hit the road yesterday."

"Don't tell Gemma that," Jax advised. "Not unless you wanna hear her fuss about how you could've passed out and wrecked."

Suddenly aware of the road dust still clinging to his clothes and face, Kozik asked, "Think I should change?" His hair probably looked like he stuck his hand in a light socket too, but there wasn't a lot he could do about that; it just seemed to grow that way. Scratching at his jawline, he added, "Maybe shave?"

"Nah, it's Gemma," shrugged Opie. "Thirsty, dirty, and hungry? She laps that shit up like warm milk."

"Clay might not like you getting all the attention," wheezed Piney with a twinkle in his eye.

Jax's phone rang. He picked up, said "okay", and motioned for everyone to get on their bikes. Kozik joined the pack of Harleys rolling out of the T-M lot and followed Jax to a residential area of Charming. He parked on the street in front of Gemma's. Jax knocked on the door. Gemma flung it open instantly, letting out the smell of home cooking. Kozik unconsciously ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip. The queen of SAMCRO ushered them in, giving each man a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Welcome back, Hermie," she said when she got to Kozik.

Jax forced himself not to laugh. Only Gemma could possibly get away with calling Kozik, not only by his first name, but by the diminutive of the elf from that old Rudolph cartoon his mom still watched every Christmas. Gemma led them to the dining room/kitchen, even though most of them knew the way. Everything was already on the table: pulled chicken, dumplings, homemade bread, and Gemma's famous made-from-scratch macaroni and cheese. Gemma had even heeded her son's words about unbreakable dishes; tonight's bowls and plates were made of paper, a sturdy brand with colorful designs on them.

"Sorry about this morning," Kozik apologized. "I knew you were coming by to cook for me-"

Gemma cut him off. "Oh, you don't have to be sorry about that, honey. Jax told me you rode straight through and tired yourself out."

Jax, who was getting beers for himself and Opie, grabbed a third for Kozik. There was no prying his mom away from one of her lost boys when she was in mother-hen mode.

"You sleep all right?" Gemma inquired.

Kozik nodded.

"Good. And you'll feel even better after you get somethin' to eat," Gemma predicted, her sharp ears picking up the evidence of his hunger. She gave his side a motherly pat and cooed, "Poor thing, you're about starved."

Jax shook his head. When he caught his mother's eye again, he gestured toward a corner of the living room, casually moving in that direction. Gemma made her way over, heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

"Hermie looks good," she told her son in a low voice. "Guess all that fresh mountain air really does keep you healthy."

"Something like that," said Jax, not wanting to point out that quitting heroin had its perks too. No sense in dredging up the past. "So what's the deal with Tig? He not showing up?"

"I put him on tow truck runs all day, trying to keep him busy." And from noticing the extra bike parked outside, she added mentally. "He caught another call around closing. He should be here any minute."

Gemma walked back to the refrigerator and pulled one of her largest mixing bowls from its depths.

"Fruit salad?" Jax said, looking at it dubiously and wondering how he'd missed it when he was getting beer.

"Well, if you don't want any, more for me," Gemma replied, giving Kozik's knuckles a gentle swat when he tried to fish out a piece of watermelon. "Wash your hands," she ordered in her "mom" voice.

"Yes, ma'am," said Kozik, making a beeline for the kitchen sink.

"Might as well leave it on." Jax instructed.

After Kozik finished, Piney washed up. Gemma was all about equality at family dinners, so she never conducted them with the strict rules of rank and seniority that normally applied. There had been more than one occasion when a prospect had been served before a patch. Clay hadn't liked it, but he also knew who wore the pants in his marriage. Speaking of Clay, he came in from the backyard just then. (Gemma didn't appreciate him smoking cigars in the house while she was trying to cook).

"Hey, Koz, good to have you back in Charming, son," Clay greeted, taking his seat at the head of the table.

"Thanks, Clay."

Everyone drifted toward their usual chairs: Jax in between Opie and Chibs, Piney and Bobby Elvis next to each other on the opposite side. Kozik stayed by the counter drinking his beer, not sure where he fit in the scheme of things.

"I gotcha, brother," Juice said, hooking his thumb at the chair that had been squeezed next to his.

Just as Kozik sat down, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Gemma said in her bright Martha Stewart voice. "Hermie, go ahead and help yourself."

Kozik didn't need to be told twice. He took a little of everything that was in arm's reach, waiting somewhat impatiently for what wasn't.

"Hey, Gem, sorry I'm late. Unser had a flat and every lug nut was fucking stuck." Tig heaved a sigh, pushing his sunglasses up into his black curls. Following her to the kitchen, he went on, "Jesus, that smells good. I'm fuckin' starvin'." Tig stopped dead in his tracks, noticing the extra blond head at the table. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Kozik finished what he had in his mouth before saying coolly, "Nice to see you too, Tigger."

"Don't call me that." Tig's tone was dangerous.

"Christ, Tiggy," said Chibs, who'd always been more of a lover than a fighter until fighting became absolutely necessary. "Yer so fuckin' crabby when ya don' eat. Have some o' this lovely supper Gemma made."

"Yeah, I'll get you a beer," Juice offered cheerfully.

In Jax's opinion, alcohol was the last thing Tig needed. But it was too late; Juice had gotten it from the fridge and even opened the bottle. Tig snatched it out of his hand and took several long pulls.

"You're welcome," Juice said, not put off in the slightest.

Tig pulled his chair back (thank God the Polish bastard hadn't taken his spot) and roughly sat down. "Are you gonna take all the goddamn bread?" he snapped at Kozik. "Pass it here."

Kozik did, but muttered "asshole" under his breath.

Luckily, Tig didn't hear that. Gemma poured herself a glass of wine; she was in for a very long evening. Jax gave her an I-told-you-this-was-a-bad-idea look.

"An' it's lovely bread, Gemma," Chibs complimented.

"Thanks, it's beer bread," Gemma replied. "Bobby gave me the recipe."

"I like it," declared Opie, adding some more butter to his piece.

Kozik nodded in agreement, already on his second slice. Bobby looked proud, even though he hadn't actually baked it. Conversation flowed somewhat more easily after that, though Tig and Kozik continued to shoot each other the occasional glare. Both were a lot more interested in eating than starting a fight, though Jax knew that was subject to change...especially if Tig kept pounding down beer like that.

Gemma wasn't surprised when there were no leftovers; all of her boys had big appetites. She walked around the table, collecting their dishes.

"Thanks, Gemma," Kozik said with a contented grin, his baggy jeans feeling a little more snug. "I'm stuffed."

"You're welcome, Hermie," said Gemma, ruffling his hair.

"Hermie," scoffed Tig.

Gemma threw the armload of paper bowls and plates in the trash, reflecting on how much easier it was than dealing with a sink full of dirty dishes. "I hope you boys saved room 'cause I made something special in honor of Hermie." She took the aluminum foil off a large plastic plate. "Blondies!"

Jax and the others chuckled.

Tig, predictably, wasn't amused. He rolled his eyes and stood up from the table, declaring, "I'm gonna fuckin' puke."

But instead of running for the bathroom, he loped toward the front door, not even thanking Gemma. Jax got to his feet and followed him outside, no doubt to remind him to respect the queen.

Gemma's smile became strained. "Who wants dessert?"

"I could use some sugar," said Clay, the tone in his gravelly voice making the double entendre obvious.

"I better go," Kozik mumbled as he pushed his chair back. "Thanks again for dinner."

"You don't have to do that, sweetheart. You're family just as much as Tig." Gemma didn't add that she was sure Tig would cool off because everyone present would've known that was a lie.

Kozik thought he was more like the cousin who showed up every couple of Christmases and you never heard from in between. He didn't know if Tig was bunking at the clubhouse these days and found himself hoping his dorm door had a lock, not that it would help him much. Lock-picking was practically a required skill to become patched. At least while he was in the service, he'd trained himself to be able to sleep with one eye open.

Jax and Tig's raised voices carried in from the porch. Opie headed there in case his best friend needed backup. Gemma could say brothers were brothers as much as she wanted, but the truth was Opie didn't like Tig any more than Kozik did. After all, Tig had murdered the love of his life, the mother of his children.

"Well, at least take these with you," sighed Gemma, holding up a Ziploc containing two blondies. "Might want a midnight snack. I'm sorry about all this, baby."

Kozik shrugged, loose and easy. "Ah, it's not your fault."

"Be careful on your way back, sweetheart," said Gemma as she embraced him, even though the house was less than 10 minutes from T-M.

"I will," Kozik promised.

"An' don' worry about Tiggy. Ye'll patch SAMCRO." said Chibs.

It was a nice thought, but unlikely. Everyone knew the vote would have to be unanimous.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow." said Kozik, tucking the blondies in the pocket of his kutte.

"Don't forget about church," Clay's voice rumbled from the head of the table.

When the front door was opened, Tig got louder. He and Kozik traded a few obscenities. Gemma threw back the rest of her wine, anticipating some phone calls from the neighbors. She hoped they would just call her. Unser probably wouldn't arrest anyone, but the last thing the club needed was their name on another police report.

"Knock that shit off!" Gemma shouted in the general direction of the porch.

There was a final "FUCK YOU TOO" from outside, closely followed by the roar of a motorcycle. Not long afterward, a second engine took off. Jax came into the kitchen with Opie. Nobody asked what happened to Tig. Gemma passed around dessert and coffee, even though the party was more or less over. When that was finished, there were more hugs and thank-yous for the hostess. She sent blondies home with Opie for his kids; Bobby Elvis took what was left after that. As usual, Jax was the last one left in the house.

Jax heaved a sigh, running his fingers through his long blond hair. "I dunno what you thought was gonna happen tonight, but-"

Gemma held up a palm. "Don't. Don't say another word, Jackson."

 **THE END**


End file.
